


A Question unanswered

by Kenzieismyhero



Category: John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, is fluff, that's all it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 00:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenzieismyhero/pseuds/Kenzieismyhero
Summary: When John shows up unexpected at Helen's door, she learns the answer to a question that has been hanging between them.This is set before the films (obviously)





	A Question unanswered

Helen was curled up on a corner of her couch, toes trapped in foam spreaders, waiting for her home-done pedicure to dry when the knock sounded hard and heavy on her door.  
She froze. The clock told her it was much later than anyone had any business knocking. The knock came again, and there was something familiar in the pattern.  
Getting up, Helen shuffled to the entrance and peeked through the peephole.  
John stood outside, leaning against the door with an arm above his head. His face looked older then it should, and was that blood on his shirt?  
Helen paused a moment.  
When John had been here last, a question had gone unanswered between them.  
He must have heard the deadbolt sliding back because he pushed himself up and straightened his tie.  
They stared at each other through the opening. He was breathing heavily. The hand that hadn’t been resting on the door was tucked inside his suit coat out of sight.  
“Helen,” he said.  
“John,” she replied. “Come inside.”  
He’d told her once that stepping into her apartment felt like coming home. Having been to his bare-bones place a few times, she saw how hers was different. She’d only been in it for around ten months but had done everything she could to make the small space feel homier than any other place she’d slept.  
John was limping. He was trying to hide it as he stepped past her through the doorway, but she knew how he moved well enough that even the slight change raised alarm bells.  
She closed and locked the door and as he pulled off his shoes and set them on the edge of the shoe mat.  
When she turned back he faced her, so close that his still labored breaths warmed her face.  
“I did it, Helen,” he said.  
“Did what?” she asked, her voice a whisper in the stillness.  
“I’m out of the life.” a strange smile flitted across his face. “I did it.” He stared at Helen a moment, then gave a crazed laugh.  
Helen reached out her hands to catch his elbows. He sucked a breath and flinched away on one side.  
“Are you all right?” Helen asked.  
“I’ve been hurt worse,” he replied.  
“I didn’t ask that. Here, sit down.”  
Once before, just after he’d told her what he did, he’d come to her bleeding. He’d been out of town for days, and she’d just begun to worry when he’d shown up on her doorstep with torn stitches. Ever since that night, she’d kept a dark-colored throw across the back of the pale blue couch.  
Tonight she pulled it down, making sure it covered the seat before guiding John to sit.  
“Let me get you a drink,” she said.  
When she came back with glasses of both water and bourbon, he was painfully working his suit coat off. One side of his shirt was speckled with blood. It wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined.  
“I might have cracked a rib,” John admitted, keeping his hand pressed against his side.  
“Do I need to drive you to ER?” she asked.  
He took the glass of bourbon and waved her concern away. “Not yet. I’ll go to Lawrence later.” The glass froze halfway to his mouth. “No. I can’t go to Lawrence, I’m not part of that anymore.” He looked up at Helen, who still stood barefoot over him. His face changed and he lowered the glass without drinking from it.  
“How did you get out?” she asked, sliding her pedicure supplies over so she could sit on the edge of the coffee table.  
“Viggo gave me a task,” John replied. “He thought it was impossible.”  
“What was it?” Helen pressed.  
John looked at her a moment, then downed the bourbon in one gulp. “It’s over. I had to ask for a favor from a powerful man, but it’s done.”  
There were rare moments when John looked haunted. Helen never knew how to feel in them. She took the glass from him and replaced it with the water.  
“And?”  
“And I succeeded. I’m a free man.”  
When Helen leaned over to kiss him she could taste the triumph on his lips.  
John’s fingers on her shoulder separated them a moment later. “The last time I saw you, you asked a question.”  
“I did,” she said, her heart pausing in its rhythm.  
“I would like to change my answer if the question still stands.”  
A smile that was unstoppable and unhideable pulled at her lips, though she struggled to do both. “Would you like me to ask it again?”  
“Please,” he replied.  
“John, will you marry me?” she asked.  
“I would consider it an honor to be your husband,” he replied. “Yes.”  
They kissed again. This time when they separated, John’s hand wasn’t on her, rather it was extending a diamond ring that Helen was certain had cost more than everything in her apartment.  
She extended her hand and helped John slide the ring home.  
“I love you,” he whispered.  
“I love you too,” she whispered back.


End file.
